An Unlikely Hero
by chambucket
Summary: A love story about the two we love, Draco and Hermione, grown up and leading lives no-one thought they would. check it out
1. Chapter 1

A/N: hi guys, this is my first story, i hope you like it, please review and tell me what you think

**Chapter One**

Long after everyone at work had left, Hermione scratched away irately on a piece of parchment containing an overdue report to her evil supervisor, Maggie. How had she become a paper- pushing accounts clerk in the Ministry of Magic? How had she gone from muggleborn genius and famous member of the golden trio to… this?

Sighing, she gave the completed report a tap of her wand that made it fly up in the air and to Maggie's office.

Hermione packed up her small black bag with paperwork, her coat and umbrella and after making sure her tiny desk was as neat as usual, she went out of the unit she shared with three colleagues, going up the stairs and to the lift.

The silence of the deserted hallway was interrupted by the _ding_ of the lift as it opened and the creepy voice of the magical lift guide greeted her.

'Good evening, Fifth floor, Department of Magical Finances and Accounts.'

'Ground floor, the atrium,' she said.

With a groan of metal, the doors rasped shut and the lift began to move down.

Leaning against one side, she dropped her bag and rubbed her eyes. What a long day. Luckily, only one day of this crap- hole left before the long-awaited weekend.

_Ding._

'Good evening, Third floor, Department of Law Enforcement.'

The doors once more rasped open, to reveal _The_ Draco Malfoy in a three-piece charcoal gray silk suit, hands in his pockets, suave and debonair as ever; her one-time arch-nemesis and now, Auror extraordinaire.

Suppressing an urge to sniff, she pasted a neutral expression on her face as he took an inventory of her from disheveled head to toe, the faintest of classic Malfoy smirks gracing his face. He sauntered lazily into the lift, with a commanding 'Ground floor, the Atrium.'

Suddenly, the lift felt too small to be stuck in with _Malfoy_. But, no matter, she told herself assuringly. The severe dislike bordering on hate she and her best friends had for this man had worn away since the yesteryears of high school. Now, all she felt for the man was indifference. Or so she tried to convince herself. She no longer had cause to dislike him; the irritating, immature teenage bully had grown up to be a much-beloved war hero and auror; having, to everyone's astonishement, diverted from the track of Death Eater to fight on Harry's side come the day of reckoning against Voldermort. No one doubted whose side he was on, after he killed his own father during the war. Lucius tried to kill his traitor of a son who, unbelievably, dared fight for the mudbloods and against the Great Lord of the Dark.

Even after Voldermort's defeat and the return of normalcy to magical England, Malfoy continued to give back to the society, graduating from the esteemed Auror training college with honors then in the following years gathering up scattered Death Eaters on the run. With his tall, lithe and muscular frame, his platinum hair, stormy gray eyes and dashing good looks, he was England's most eligible bachelor, after "Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Just-Would-Not-Die-and-Eventually-Killed-You-Know-Who". At least, if you ignored the fact that Malfoy was a womanizer. Coreen, her stunningly beautiful best friend and fellow office mate, confessed how he had cheated on her, not with one, but two different women!

Personally, Hermione could never get past the image of a bouncing ferret long enough to see the supposed "prime male specimen" every woman in this building salivated over.

_Ding._ 'Good evening. Ground floor, the Atrium.'

Finally. As the doors slid open, Malfoy turned to her and offering a hint of a bow, gestured towards the doors.

'After you, Ms. Granger.' To others, it would have sounded typical, but to her, it just sounded mocking. Once more trying not to sniff, with a slight incline of her head and a cool 'Thank you,' she picked up her bag and walked out of the lift, relieved to be out of Malfoy's unsettling presence.

/

When Hermione apparated to her apartment, she was greeted by Crookshanks, still alive and kicking after all the years. She walked to the bathroom and ran a hot bath. While the water ran, she went back to the kitchen and waved her wand around, muttering some cooking spells that Mrs. Weasley had showed her before … the incident.

When she judged that the food and utensils were doing well enough and didn't need any help, she grabbed a bottle of _Le Lune_ Wine and a wineglass. After depositing this next to the tub she undressed and slid into the foamy hot water.

Mhh. It felt wonderful. As the water drew out all her tension, she closed her eyes and let her mind drift, the water soothing all her worries away.

After almost an hour, when her skin was beginning to resemble a prune's, she removed the stopper and stood, letting the water run off her body in tiny rivulets before wrapping a fluffy towel around her.

As if on cue, she heard the door bell ring. Frowning, Hermione climbed out of the bathtub. As the bell was pressed insistently again and again, she hurried, yelling 'I'm coming!'

Cursing her lack of a peephole, she called out. 'Who is it?'

'Mr. Ellis, your neighbor from across the hall.' Huh? Who? She struggled to remember him, and a vague picture of a tiny, white haired man, as reclusive as she herself was, sprang to mind. Odd, that. What could he want?

'Oh, Mr. Ellis, how may I help – '–' she cut herself short when an empty corridor stared back at her. Abruptly, she knew there was something weird going on. Turning to get her wand from the dining table, she ran into a large, solid yet invisible shape. This materialized into a huge man as the disillusionment charm on him disappeared with a _pop_.

Before she could react he had grabbed her and wrapped large hands around her neck. Tiny, beady black eyes that looked like they belonged on a dead person stared back at her from a thick, squashed face.

Smiling sinisterly, he said, 'may you rot in eternal slumber. It is my duty to purge our nation of your filth. Though the Great Lord of the Dark may be gone, I have taken it upon myself to see his ultimate wishes carried out, and by the time I have finished, England will be as pure and clean as the day of our ancestors. In your next life perhaps you will be worthy to hold the title of Pureblood.'

She clawed at his fingers futilely, but as she felt darkness threatening to sweep her away her long-ago hand-to-hand fight training kicked in and with all her remaining strength Hermione hit her assailant's ears with cupped hands, trying to burst his eardrums. When he loosened his hold, she grabbed his cloak and jabbed sharply at his groin with her knee; a blow that made him keel over in agony. She staggered over to her wand, but when she whirled around to confront the man, he had crawled into the hallway beyond the anti-apparition point and apparated with a loud _crack_.

Drawing air in wheezily, every breath fire in her throat; she went to the fireplace and threw in a pinch of floo powder.

'Department of Law Enforcement, the Ministry of Magic!' she rasped.

When she stuck her head in, she was met by a woman with a parchment sitting in front of the fireplace. 'Yes, how may I help you?' she inquired.

'Um.. hello? I think I need help. I was just attacked by a stranger in my apartment.' She rattled off her address, punctuated by bouts of coughing. Once the lady assured her they were on their way she went back to her own place, where she sat curled before the fireplace, still in her towel; her heart beating a hundred kilometers per hour..

Eventually her heart rate slowed down to normal. It was all starting to feel like a bad dream. Had a man really tried to murder her in her own home a few minutes ago?

Maybe she could give in to her aching head and just close her eyes a little until the Law Enforcement people came. Just a little…

/

Draco sat at the steel and chrome island in his state-of-the art kitchen, sipping at Firewhisky's Finest. The serial murderer he was chasing at work, a devout follower of Voldermort, continued to elude Draco's grasp despite repeated efforts by Aurors to find him and halt the killings of innocent muggleborns across England. They were already eighteen deaths too late.

A tap on his window drew his attention away from the amber liquid he held. A large tawny owl flapped there, a roll of parchment tied on one leg.

After the bird had delivered its message and flown away, he returned to his seat and broke the seal to reveal two lines scribbled within.

"_I think we've got him. Another victim, only this time he didn't manage to finish the job. St. Mungo's, first floor, Ward seven. Hermione Granger."_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter is the property of J.K Rowling

A/N: hi guys hope you like it.

Chapter two

When Draco got to the hospital it was very late. He went to ward 7 to find a Healer's Assistant, two Aurors and a Magical Law Enforcement (MLE) Officer and Granger, who was sitting propped up by pillows in a narrow, uncomfortable-looking hospital bed. Surprisingly, the ward was bereft of other patients. The MLE officer was sitted next to her with a roll of parchment in one hand and a wizened quill in the other, still gathering her statement for official records.

In the corner were two Aurors, Mike Kimsworth, Draco's immediate supervisor; and Alex Gregovitch, his partner and the person who had sent the note. The three of them had been assigned this case by "The Man", the chief Auror and Head of the MLE department in the Ministry.

Draco entered the room and Mike motioned him over to where he and Alex were conferring.

'I got your note. So tell me. What have we got?' Draco inquired posing his question to them both.

At a nod from Mike, Alex launched into a summary of what Granger had reported about the serial killer, Daniel Robeson.

'Apparently, Death-Eater Dan broke in, tried, unsuccessfully to kill her then managed to apparate away. When MLE got to her apartment, they found her passed out on her living room floor.'

Draco snorted. 'Well, at least she's still alive, unlike his other eighteen victims. Come to think about it, how are we sure whoever broke into Granger's home is our guy?'

Mike, who had been silent up to this point held up some parchment with Death-Eater Dan's visage on it. 'Oh, we're sure. Magical sketches taken from her memories confirmed it.'

This got Draco thinking. So it was true. Hermione Granger, his annoying old schoolmate had managed to survive against Dan. Understandable, considering all the things she had faced as the third member of Potty's little clique. But the fact that she _had _survived indicated that she was now under constant threat of attack from the criminal.

'Draco, I think you've realized by now this means that she is number one on his most-wanted muggleborns list. She'll need 24-hour Auror protection. And, if I recall, weren't you friends with Ms. Granger in Hogwarts? Congratulations, I'm giving you a chance to reacquaint yourselves.'

/

Of course when Hermione heard the news she was totally against such a preposterous idea. She would be fine; she could handle herself, she was an experienced war veteran, for goodness sake –

'Good God, Granger,' Malfoy interrupted with an amused tone in his voice. 'One would think you protest too much. It's the law, as you very well know, for anyone put on Red alert – as you were – 24-hour Auror protection is mandatory. Could it possibly be that you're uncomfortable with the Auror assigned to you? Uncomfortable with _me_?'

Naturally, after this, all Hermione could do was stutter a vehement denial, her cheeks flushing with color. _Of course _she wasn't _uncomfortable_ with Malfoy. Pshaw!

It was only Malfoy and his two companions in the room with her when she was informed of these absurd security arrangements; the MLE officer and Assistant Healer had cleared the room. Before the young Trainee left, he had informed her that she was free to go whenever she liked. So she took the opportunity to chase the three imposing men out of the room on the excuse that she needed to change out of her hospital gown and into her own clothes.

Mr. Kimsworth and Mr. Gregovitch were hasty in leaving, assuring her they would catch him, now, and she had no reason to fear anything; Malfoy was one of the best Aurors and would make sure Dan didn't do anything to her; and how in the meantime they would redouble their efforts to track him down with the new information she had provided.

Malfoy, in contrast, was quiet and only smiled slightly to himself before following the other two out of the room.

When Hermione was finally alone, she sank back into the pillows with a sigh of relief at her longed-for privacy finally granted. She had been poked and prodded since she woke up. But what would she do about Malfoy?

Malfoy. With her. For 24 hours. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

It had been such a long night. Deciding to put it out of her mind for now and deal with it all later, Hermione banished all the events of the evening out of her mind and dressed quickly before leaving the room and discharging herself. Wondering when exactly Malfoy would start, because she had a feeling there was no way she could wriggle out of the little arrangement. that is, unless she asked for another Auror – and wouldn't that mean she _was _scared of Malfoy? the very thought was laughable!

As she walked out of St.Mungo's, the man in question surprised her at the St.Mungo's Outpatient Exit, which led out into an alley over which a sign read "apparition point". Hands in pockets in that lazy way of his, he was lounging casually against one wall of said alley. Grey slacks and a black silk shirt had never looked better on a man.

But now that she thought about it, what sort of Auror fought crime in WizWitches Designer clothes? If this was one of the best Aurors, she would hate to see the worst.

'Ready to go?' he asked unnecessarily.

Not bothering to respond to the obvious query, Hermione simply told him her address and they went on their way. Unfortunately, the Healers had instructed her not to apparate alone for a few days so she and Malfoy had to use side-along apparition. As his hand curled round her upper arm, a mysterious shiver went through her at the contact and her breath caught in her throat.

Malfoy, as observant as ever, noticed, but thankfully assumed it was because his hand was squeezing her arm.

'Sorry if my grip's too tight,' he apologized. 'But we wouldn't want to lose any parts of you, now would we?' His crooked smirk belied this statement and Hermione wondered if that was supposed to be a joke.

Just before they apparated, a last anxious thought flashed through her brain. _What the hell am I getting myself into?_

/

A/N:To clarify: Wizwitches is the ultimate Magical Designer brand; the equivalent to muggles' Dolce or Gucci. If you have any comments, questions or suggestions, feel free to review; feedback is always welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I know it's been looong. Forgive me!

Recap:

'Ready to go?' he asked unnecessarily.

Not bothering to respond to the obvious query, Hermione simply told him her address and they went on their way. Unfortunately, the Healers had instructed her not to apparate alone for a few days so she and Malfoy had to use side-along apparition. As his hand curled round her upper arm, a mysterious shiver went through her at the contact and her breath caught in her throat.

Malfoy, as observant as ever, noticed, but thankfully assumed it was because his hand was squeezing her arm.

'Sorry if my grip's too tight,' he apologized. 'But we wouldn't want to lose any parts of you, now would we?' His crooked smirk belied this statement and Hermione wondered if that was supposed to be a joke.

Just before they apparated, a last anxious thought flashed through her brain. _What the hell am I getting myself into?_

Chapter three

When they arrived at her apartment, the first thing she did was wrench her arm from Malfoy's unnerving grip and put some distance between them as she fumbled in her purse for her house keys. As she was putting the key in the lock, a wave of exhaustion passed over her, and she almost collapsed; if it wasn't for Malfoy who caught her as she slumped against him.

'Whoa,' he exclaimed, surprised. 'What's the matter? Didn't you take your medical potions?'

Struggling to straighten and stand without his support, she waved his statement away. 'I really don't like medication, especially when it's totally unnecessary. I'll be fine.'

She managed to open the door, finally, and she headed straight to her bedroom. 'the guest room is straight down the corridor, after the bathroom. I'm sure you'll find everything you need there. Night.'

/

Draco made himself comfortable on the narrow single bed Granger had in her… guest room. If such a small room, filled to over pouring with hundreds of books, could be called a guest room. She had always been the bookworm, but really. Obviously, this was nowhere near his suite at the mansion, but he'd definitely slept in worse. He could handle it. _Especially with such intriguing company,_ he mused. Granger had definitely changed from the scrawny, mousy… no; beaver-like, flat-chested, buck toothed and bushy haired teenager she had been. That might be cruel, but it was true. Now, she had grown into a tall, slender beauty, with gentle curves. Her hair was cut in a short bob, short at the back but coming longer in the front. It suited her, and it was not as bushy as her long hair had been.

But it seemed it was only her looks that had taken a turn for the better. Her friendship with Potty and Weasel had deteriorated mysteriously; and their estrangement had caused the once-celebrated war hero to be shunned in all circles of Magical England. It seemed no Magical Company would take her; no one wanted her anymore. Everyone looked down upon her and no one would give her a job, until she got that lowly accounting clerks job with the ministry. It was funny, the twists and turns life took. And she was still stuck in that same rut.

Draco had to admit his life had turned out better than he had hoped for. Six years ago, if someone had showed him where he would be, he would have scoffed in their faces. Him? On Potty's side? And an _auror?_ But when push came to shove, he could not stand for Voldermort or his ideals, despite all the brain washing that had been indoctrinated into him since his childhood. Even if it meant standing against his family, friends, everything in his life, he could not stand for evil. For killing innocent people all in the aim to attain more power. And now? He was happy. He had a fulfilling, adventurous career – never a dull moment, for certain – a steamy and varied love life, friends… what more could a bloke ask for?

Only, he had thought all the Death Eater fanatics had died out by now. Only to find one of the worst in the last couple of years. But he had a feeling that they would catch him. It was just that, of all the muggle-borns in England, why did it have to be Granger? She used to drive him _crazy_ in school. How were they going to spend the next Draco didn't know how long together?

It was a good thing that they worked in the same building. Draco could check on her periodically while still working on Dan's case. And that just left the evenings and nights to deal with, because Draco knew that was the time Dan was likely to try attack her again.

His thoughts were cut short when he heard the rasp of cloth against skin right outside his door. In one fluid moment, Draco crept to the door with his wand in one hand and a small, wickedly curved knife in the other. With a swift flourish, he opened the door and pointed his wand straight at the heart of the person there. Who was Granger, a startled look in her eyes.

'Oh, sorry,' he apologized, lowering his wand, and putting it, along with the knife, on top of the shelf next to the door. 'I get a bit paranoid at times.'

'It's alright, Malfoy. I suppose it's in my best interest for you to be paranoid, isn't it?'

An awkward pause followed her acerbic statement, in which both realized just what the other was wearing. Which was very little.

In an automatic gesture, Hermione's hand raised to shield her chest, which was covered in a thin, silk robe.

Malfoy only had on a pair of black boxers. Hermione's eyes were drawn to his washboard tummy and muscular body. The heat coming off him in waves was palpable.

Malfoy noticed. 'Like what you see, Granger?'

She gasped at his audacity, and felt her cheeks flush in response. 'Of course not,' she blustered.

The smirk on his face got wider. 'It's alright. I get it all the time, and I'm sure it's been a while for you. Look all you want.'

In a flash, Hermione's embarrassment turned to anger. How dare him!

'Who do you think I am? One of your female admirers? Plus, I lead a perfectly normal life. So, alright, i'm not in a relationship at the moment, but I'm content with who and where I am. I don't need a man!' she scoffed, as though it was the strangest thought she had heard.

'Really,' Malfoy asked her in a low, dangerously husky voice. He was walking towards her, which made her walk back, until her back was pressed against the wall opposite his room. Malfoy didn't stop until he was inches from her, and his slate-gray eyes gazed deeply into her hazel ones. Then he deliberately put his right hand, palm out, against the wall beside her shoulder. He leaned close to her right ear, a millimeter away, sending shivers down her spine and her core to melt a little. 'So you're not attracted to me? You've never longed for… this?'

His other hand brushed gently across her throat, leaving a tingling trail in its wake. He moved even closer, until he was pressed flush against her. 'You never ache to be touched, to be held? To be pressed up against a wall and made passionate love to? Why would you want to settle for contentment when you can have… ecstasy?'

Her breathing had turned husky and he could see she wanted more. At that moment, it was very difficult to step back. The air rushing in between them helped, though.

'Well,' Malfoy finally said, with a shaky laugh. 'You still stick to what you said?'

Hermione blinked at him, trying to reorient herself. Then a thought passed her mind.

'Wait, was that all just to prove a point, Malfoy?' She exclaimed.

He looked at her and smiled slightly. 'To be honest, yes. And don't you think we are too mature to be calling each other by our last names, _Hermione?_'

Her eyes had cleared completely by then. 'No, _Malfoy_,' she disagreed forcefully, and turning on her heel, she stormed off to her room.

Long after she had left, Draco stood with his back against the door, wondering what the hell had just happened.


End file.
